Okay, so Scott came down Friday and he and Ric just whooped it up all weekend. It was like a jolt of youth for Ric...hangin with his childhood bud.
Ric wasn't tempted to drink and so he didn't partake, but Scott and I did.
We had planned that we would all go out to PR's on Friday after I got home from work. Well we walked there and lo and behold, PR's is apparently shut down! We had just come here a few weeks ago when Ric's mom was down. Zaileen, our fav waitress didn't say anything about an impending close. We assume they got shut down...probably got caught serving underage patrons...pretty much a liquor license suicide here in Central Florida. PR's did attract a college-aged crowd. Too bad, and this just opened about a year ago, too. Now like the former Chevy's at this site, which was itself a former Mexican chain (something like Rio Grande), this building will likely be vacant for a while. Restaurants that go belly-up repeatedly while their competetion(s) next door thrive, garner a bad reputation.
So we went to, ugh, again, Longhorn. Don't get me wrong...I love Longhorn, but being literally across the street from the house, it is visited way too frequesntly. I like to mix it up a bit, you know?
Saturday Ric and Scott went off on a Great Biking Adventure and Ric convinced Scott to bike the whole trail with him...about 32 miles roundtrip! Scott may have gotten dehydrated or a bit sunstroke since later that evening when he and Ric went on their much anticipated night out at The Melting Pot, Scott got quite drunk and became abusive and loud because percieved slow service. They were politely asked to leave, which made Scott just livid and as they stood in the parking lot of the restaurant waiting for their cab, Scott screamed obsenities at passers-by out of frustration and alcohol induced rage.
When they got home, Scott came in my room and loudly paraphrased how he hated Florida and wanted to go home, how he hated that restaurant, all with such salty language and bitterness.
Like I told Ric, and it's so true, it was as if the spirit of Gary were channelling through Scott that night. The behavior, the attitude, the way of talking...classic drunken Gary.
On Sunday, it was my turn. I wanted to party a bit so I bought a 12 pack of Budweiser for myself and downed them all before we went out to Fishbones.
I only remember a few things from that evening. Fishbones decor was beautiful, their martinis were great and the wine Scott and I shared, an Argentine Cabernet was fabulous. (Tons better than the Pinot Noir I ordered for the two of us at Longhorn Friday night) I ordered bouliabaisse, but don't ask me how it was...I don't remember a thing after the first few sips of wine.
Although I didn't remember much, I did remember seeing my former Cruises-N-More co-worker Lynn working as a waitress there. (Lynn was the one in the cubicle next to me who Walt confessed to me, in secret, that she had gotten her license suspended for a DUI...really? I figured as much since from day one when I met her, I could sense she was an alchy like me...call it ALC-DAR...you know, like GAYDAR?) I remember she told me virtually noone remained from our training class. No surprise, I saw it coming.
After chatting with Lynn, I must have nearly pulled a Brothers Pub incident (stay tuned for an upcoming FLASHBACK detailing this, but, in summary, the incident dates back to the 80's when I had gone out to a nice bar and grill in Pawtucket (I know, sounds like an oxymoron...nice place in Pawtucket,ugh!) with Linda and after numerous (I think 8, yikes!) Tanguray martinis, I went to the restroom, and after finishing peeing, completely forgot where I was and who I was with, and proceeded to leave the place and walked the streets, lost and aimless, until I figured out I had a car, got in the car, started it, and backed it into another car. The driver of the other car threatened to call the police, I offered money but it wasn't good enough. I went back to my car preparing to drive off, but discovered that I had locked my keys in the car, with the car idling. The cops came but I was able to somehow convince him that I wasn't drunk. Linda finally found me in the parking lot amongst this commotion. After the cop left (and the other irate driver who couldn't convince the cop that the tiny scratch on his car was caused by me) I took a brick from the side of the road and smashed my driver side window to gain access to the interior so I could drive it to Linda's house with she and her boyfriend Ed in her car ahead of me. Well, actually, forget the FLASHBACK, cause that's the story of that night!)
Ric finally came looking for me, because indeed, I was in the parking lot and had no idea where I was.
Needless to say, I missed work yesterday due to a huge hangover and, oddly, a very severe sore throat.
Time to hunker down and gat back to the nose on the grindstone...too many weekends like this will do me in...one way or another.
Ric wasn't tempted to drink and so he didn't partake, but Scott and I did.
We had planned that we would all go out to PR's on Friday after I got home from work. Well we walked there and lo and behold, PR's is apparently shut down! We had just come here a few weeks ago when Ric's mom was down. Zaileen, our fav waitress didn't say anything about an impending close. We assume they got shut down...probably got caught serving underage patrons...pretty much a liquor license suicide here in Central Florida. PR's did attract a college-aged crowd. Too bad, and this just opened about a year ago, too. Now like the former Chevy's at this site, which was itself a former Mexican chain (something like Rio Grande), this building will likely be vacant for a while. Restaurants that go belly-up repeatedly while their competetion(s) next door thrive, garner a bad reputation.
So we went to, ugh, again, Longhorn. Don't get me wrong...I love Longhorn, but being literally across the street from the house, it is visited way too frequesntly. I like to mix it up a bit, you know?
Saturday Ric and Scott went off on a Great Biking Adventure and Ric convinced Scott to bike the whole trail with him...about 32 miles roundtrip! Scott may have gotten dehydrated or a bit sunstroke since later that evening when he and Ric went on their much anticipated night out at The Melting Pot, Scott got quite drunk and became abusive and loud because percieved slow service. They were politely asked to leave, which made Scott just livid and as they stood in the parking lot of the restaurant waiting for their cab, Scott screamed obsenities at passers-by out of frustration and alcohol induced rage.
When they got home, Scott came in my room and loudly paraphrased how he hated Florida and wanted to go home, how he hated that restaurant, all with such salty language and bitterness.
Like I told Ric, and it's so true, it was as if the spirit of Gary were channelling through Scott that night. The behavior, the attitude, the way of talking...classic drunken Gary.
On Sunday, it was my turn. I wanted to party a bit so I bought a 12 pack of Budweiser for myself and downed them all before we went out to Fishbones.
I only remember a few things from that evening. Fishbones decor was beautiful, their martinis were great and the wine Scott and I shared, an Argentine Cabernet was fabulous. (Tons better than the Pinot Noir I ordered for the two of us at Longhorn Friday night) I ordered bouliabaisse, but don't ask me how it was...I don't remember a thing after the first few sips of wine.
Although I didn't remember much, I did remember seeing my former Cruises-N-More co-worker Lynn working as a waitress there. (Lynn was the one in the cubicle next to me who Walt confessed to me, in secret, that she had gotten her license suspended for a DUI...really? I figured as much since from day one when I met her, I could sense she was an alchy like me...call it ALC-DAR...you know, like GAYDAR?) I remember she told me virtually noone remained from our training class. No surprise, I saw it coming.
After chatting with Lynn, I must have nearly pulled a Brothers Pub incident (stay tuned for an upcoming FLASHBACK detailing this, but, in summary, the incident dates back to the 80's when I had gone out to a nice bar and grill in Pawtucket (I know, sounds like an oxymoron...nice place in Pawtucket,ugh!) with Linda and after numerous (I think 8, yikes!) Tanguray martinis, I went to the restroom, and after finishing peeing, completely forgot where I was and who I was with, and proceeded to leave the place and walked the streets, lost and aimless, until I figured out I had a car, got in the car, started it, and backed it into another car. The driver of the other car threatened to call the police, I offered money but it wasn't good enough. I went back to my car preparing to drive off, but discovered that I had locked my keys in the car, with the car idling. The cops came but I was able to somehow convince him that I wasn't drunk. Linda finally found me in the parking lot amongst this commotion. After the cop left (and the other irate driver who couldn't convince the cop that the tiny scratch on his car was caused by me) I took a brick from the side of the road and smashed my driver side window to gain access to the interior so I could drive it to Linda's house with she and her boyfriend Ed in her car ahead of me. Well, actually, forget the FLASHBACK, cause that's the story of that night!)
Ric finally came looking for me, because indeed, I was in the parking lot and had no idea where I was.
Needless to say, I missed work yesterday due to a huge hangover and, oddly, a very severe sore throat.
Time to hunker down and gat back to the nose on the grindstone...too many weekends like this will do me in...one way or another.